


Bane Unmasked

by vanillafluffy



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Bane Lives!, Bane Unmasked, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Gen, Post-Movie 3: Dark Knight Rises (2012), self-care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2020-12-14 22:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21022934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: Bane survives the battle at Wayne Tower long enough to go into hiding.





	1. Blood and Boots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cozy_coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/gifts).
**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bane didn't die during the battle at Wayne Tower.
> 
> Written for the prompt "Blood and boots"

The fight still rages on the street outside when he regains consciousness. The jewel thief’s burst of fire struck the side of his head and glanced off his mask. Bane rises slowly to his feet. 

Blood runs down the side of his face. Warm and sticky, it soaks into his vest and the shirt beneath. Staggering over to a fallen body, he wrestles off the jacket the man was wearing, using it to staunch the bleeding. He’s dizzy, whether from the head wound or the loss of blood, he isn’t sure. It doesn’t matter; he won’t be taken alive. He has spent enough of his life as a prisoner--if, that is, there is anyone left to arrest him after the bomb has detonated. 

He has long since made contingency plans. There are several hideaways secreted around the city where he can go to ground. It’s time to find one and hunker down to live or die. 

He has had ample time in recent weeks to learn all the ins and outs of Wayne Tower. Downstairs is an entrance to a subbasement that can access the subway tunnels. The trains haven’t run much lately, making it a quiet place where he won’t be noticed. All he has to do is concentrate, to ignore the pain he feels without the now-shattered mask, to remember which way lies his nearest sanctuary.

His boots have insulated soles. Fortunate for him, as try as he may, he stumbles and kicks the third rail more than once. The sound of them shuffling seems to echo from the vaulted walls of the tunnel. 

By now, there are mere minutes before the bomb will go off. Is he down far enough? Where is the epicenter? Surely he’ll feel the shockwave, if it doesn’t obliterate him as it will so many others. 

The hideout is located in another subbasement with tunnel access. This one belongs to a long-defunct department store. Like the other safe houses, he’s equipped it with food and water, medical supplies and other items his foresight deems useful. One of these is a radio with an improvised antenna. 

Bane’s hands are shaking as he cleans the wound. The pain rolls over him like a thunderstorm with waves of weakness illuminated by lightning bolts of agony. Part of it is the constant pain that’s been his companion for so many years, exacerbated by the lack of analgesic from his mask. Some of it is ‘fresh’ damage from the fight with Wayne and Ms. Kyle’s bullets. That, together with the loss of blood and the exertion of getting here has left him with just enough strength to do basic first aid while the radio drones in the background.

It’s some sign of how unsettled the city has been that the same DJ has been the only one on the air for the last several days. She reports that the bomb has detonated over the bay. Gotham is safe!

So--they have failed. First, Ra’s Al Ghul was brought down instead of bringing down the city. Now, Talia…he doesn’t know what’s happened to her, beyond the obvious--that she was unable to prevent the bomb being snatched from their hands. The League of Shadows is defeated and Bane has barely escaped with his life.

He can’t remember the last time he had no campaign, no goal he was working toward. What will he do now?

Rest. And heal. Those are the only goals within his present capacity.

Bane closes his eyes and surrenders to the darkness.

...


	2. The Simple Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bane cautiously reenters the outside world after his wounds have healed.
> 
> The prompt was "Self-care".

For weeks, Bane remains underground, holed up in his hideaway while his injuries heal. Gradually, he grows stronger, more able to move about, although still painfully because of the old wounds he sustained in the Pit. His mask is damaged beyond repair and he doesn’t have the ability to make another at hand.

At last, his dwindling cache of supplies forces him to emerge. He has funds, thanks to his foresight, so he doesn’t have to scavenge for food, and during his isolation his hair and beard have grown out, so no one is likely to recognize him without the mask.

His first stop is at a gymnasium that offers by-the-week memberships. He is less interested in working out than in availing himself of the hot running water of the showers. Weeks spent washing up from a pail of cold water makes even the bare-bones facilities here feel luxurious. Being clean from the skin out is refreshing.

After living on canned and dehydrated rations, simple things like fresh fruit and cheese seem a feast. He remembers coming out of the Pit and being overwhelmed by the bounty of the bazaar Ra’s Al Ghul took them to. It’s a little like that feeling, although the small market he wanders through is far less exotic. So many years spent breathing the analgesic gas--it’s a novelty to be able to smell ordinary things again…the sweetness of apples, smoked meats and cheese, a whiff of something briny. He provides himself with enough to live on for several days.

The next shop is a bakery, fragrant with new bread. Bane inhales deeply. No wonder bread is called ‘the staff of life’--there is something viscerally comforting about its aroma.

He limps forward when it’s his turn at the counter. The woman behind it is wearing a smock dusted with flour. “Are you alright, dear?” she asks him.

Dear? Who is this woman who presumes to be so familiar? Well, she is apparently old enough to be his mother--the white streaking her hair isn’t all from flour. There are lines in her face…she isn’t ancient, but youth is behind her. 

“It’s an old injury,” he tells her honestly. “It flares up sometimes.”

“Ah,” she murmurs, fishing in the pocket of her smock and producing a business card. “Try them, they’ll fix you right up. Now, what can I get you?”

Embossed on the card is contact information for Rogueland Chiropractic, located not far from the doomed stadium. Bane doubts that there’s anything anyone can do for him so long after the fact, but he inclines his head perfunctorily in thanks and requests a loaf of rye bread.

With his bags and parcels, he makes his way back to his lair by a circuitous route. Over the course of the next few days, he’ll carefully make the round of his other hidey-holes to make sure they’re still secure. He’ll replenish his supplies here, too. Preparedness is as much a kind of self-care as showering and shopping. 

And now, to dine and relish the simple pleasures of bread, cheese and fruit. Having emerged from the rough life of the Pit, it takes very little to satisfy him. 

...


End file.
